


Equilibrium

by cassiopea (nina_monk)



Series: Twice the Man I Used to Be [4]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Incredible Hulk (2008), The Incredible Hulk - All Media Types
Genre: Belly Kink, Body Image, Body Positivism, Brian Banner's A+ Parenting, Chubby Bruce, Chubby!Bruce - Freeform, Control Issues, Eating Disorders, Feeding Kink, Feedist issues, Food Issues, Food Kink, Hand Feeding, I really like Rhodey okay, I wish more people wrote Rhodey fic, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Past Abuse, Rhodey is Jiminy Cricket, Self-Esteem Issues, Triggers, Weight Issues, fat acceptance, food addiction, obesity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 11:12:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1426387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nina_monk/pseuds/cassiopea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony is a genius, but he knows he doesn't have all the answers when it comes to helping Bruce with his issues.  Sometimes he loses his temper, and sometimes he needs outside help to see the forest through the trees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Equilibrium

**Author's Note:**

> Tony's POV, approximately six months following "Inertia."
> 
>  **Warnings** : Heed the tags. Also, very light D/s.
> 
>  **Ht:** 172.6cm  
>  **CW:** 127 kg  
>  **Days at Stark Tower:** 500

_If only he could see how hot he looks right now_ , Tony thought.

The two of them were nude. Tony sat on the edge of the bed, a plate of the latest test dish on his lap, while Bruce knelt on the bed with his knees slightly apart, his heavy midriff resting over his thighs. While Tony dipped the fork through the food and piled on the sauce his eyes wandered to the striae marking his lover's hips and stomach. If Bruce Hulked the marks would disappear; until then Bruce's human body exposed and exaggerated his excesses over the past few months. He had gained a lot in a short period but it was under control now, and Tony saw no reason for alarm. Not anymore.

Two scarves, one loosely tying Bruce's wrists together and another over his eyes kept Bruce in a calm, almost submissive pose. The game was one of the first they created, something to mellow Bruce's hyper-aroused palate, and it was easy to adjust the game depending on the circumstances. Today their play was more natural banter than play, as they were both themselves and relative equals. Some rules were still in place of course, but no real deviations from the norm.

"Huh," Bruce murmured. The very tip of his tongue darted to a corner of his upper lip and it took all Tony had to not kiss the sauce from his face. Unfortunately kissing him would be cheating, and it would defeat the purpose of the game. "Spicy-sweet barbecue of some sort."

"You can do better than that," Tony said lowly. He cut another bite-sized portion. "Open."

Over months of negotiating and trying new things, Bruce let Tony shop for him, and he allowed Tony to surprise him with unique flavor combinations and foods. Tony had to find dishes he thought Bruce might like, but he also had to find foods Bruce might not have tried before. It was Bruce's job to guess the flavors and combinations of the dish, within the parameters of the game.

Bruce opened his mouth and Tony lightly tipped in a fresh sample. He deliberately smeared another line of sauce across Bruce's lip for good measure, just to watch his tongue lap at it. "Describe it for me. What peppers do you taste? And what kind of meat?"

Bruce chewed slowly, thinking it through. His brow furrowed beneath the blindfold as a small sheen of sweat broke over his brow. "You're gonna make me describe the pepper--? 'Fucking hot' isn't enough?"

"You're a scientist. You also lived all over the world. You _know_ this one, or you should. Think of everywhere you've been."

Bruce grunted. "I need a bigger bite to tell."

"All right." Tony cut a larger slice. "Open. So what do I get if I win?"

Bruce took in the larger sample and nodded appreciatively. "Hang on." He chewed it thoroughly before answering again. "Habanero?" He smirked. "And I'll go with you to that stupid banquet you've been harping about... _Lamb_. It's lamb."

"Not quite habanero, not quite lamb," Tony said. He was grinning, but Bruce couldn't see it. "The banquet can be the opening gambit, but it's in addition to what I really want." He let Bruce measure his words but he didn't feel like explaining everything just yet. "The event's black tie, and very public. You that confident in your skills?"

Bruce widened his knees in an attempt to get more comfortable. His low stomach lightly brushed the mattress. "I might be. So what if I win? What's my prize?"

Tony waggled his eyebrows. "Besides me?"

"Yes, besides you. I have you all the time...more, please."

"Second to the last piece, Brucie. Open," Tony said, cutting another chunk. "And prepare for red carpet season."

"In your dreams," Bruce challenged. Tony let Bruce nibble the fork clean before a sly smirk left his lips. Bruce swallowed quickly. "So? What if I win?"

Tony smiled. "You get to stay home for a month. No banquets, no major events, no large public outings or premieres. You can be an introvert to your sweet little heart's content and I won't wheedle you."

"Tempting. But that's not exactly a fair trade. You've been wanting me to go with you to that banquet thing for months. Doesn't seem like a great deal on your end. Aha," Bruce said, face lighting up. "Mutton... _yes_ , goddammit, it's _chevon_. Prove me wrong."

"Heh. Ding, ding. You got the meat, but you still need to guess the pepper spice. Last bite, Bruce. The pepper is a toughie. Open."

Bruce opened wide and chewed the meat at a slower pace. "Not that tough, since I guessed the meat. Goat is unusual, but not as unusual for certain regions. Certain African nations, places in India and the Caribbean, for example."

"Mm. Someone's been researching. Very sexy. Go on."

"The dish is spicy, but oddly sweet. No tomato, either. I'm tasting brown sugar, allspice, nutmeg, cinnamon. Thyme. Garlic. Scallions. So I'm positive it's a Caribbean jerk marinade. Jerk goat. Not a curry, but..."

"Keep thinking," Tony prompted. His smile was broad. "The flavor isn't exactly what you expected, is it?" Tony watched another trickle of sweat trace Bruce's jaw, and he suspected the peppers weren't all to blame.                                               

"No," Bruce answered, licking his lips. "The pepper has to be scotch bonnet to be authentic, but...ahhh. You _asshole_. There's more than one pepper variety in there."

"Yep." Tony practically purred.

Bruce slowly shook his head. "Due to the heat of the dish I'm thinking one of the bird peppers, in addition to scotch bonnet."

"Final answer?"

Bruce frowned, but nodded slowly.

"Well, you're half-right. I'll give you props. Scotch bonnet, yes. Second pepper was a Bahamian Goat pepper. I thought you would've gotten that, though - it was a huge tell with the jerk goat."

Bruce snorted. "That's cheating. And I didn't think you'd be so obvious about it."

"And sometimes you over think things," Tony said, knowing Bruce would understand the his deeper meaning. Bruce's default was over-think, but Tony was slowly pulling him from that headspace, proving that sometimes he put the brakes on the wrong things.

"I'm removing the scarves." Tony leaned forward and pressed his chest into Bruce's. The other man gave a throaty noise of pleasure as Tony's arms hugged around him to reach the scarves behind his back. When he'd finished, Tony brushed his thumb across Bruce's skin striations, enjoying how Bruce shuddered and bucked beneath his touch.

"Later," he promised. He undid the scarf around Bruce's eyes and watched him carefully. "That was a pretty spicy dish. You want ice cream for the burn?"

"Yes," Bruce said quickly. Tony nodded and padded to the kitchen.

"What kind?"

"Um. The butterscotch."

Tony grinned broadly. "I love how your tongue thinks," Tony said from the kitchen. "Mind if I have some too?"

"No."

He returned with a spoon but he still made sure he could read Bruce's expression. If Bruce suddenly became possessive, then he would gently correct him.

Tony took off the lid and placed it on an end table, and thought over the past several months. Bruce had been a blank canvas when they started the feedings. He had known very little of food etiquette or about sharing, or about food boundaries - apart from his own self-imposed ones - and his views surrounding food were often immature and occasionally childish. Through their play Tony had uncovered darker, nastier triggers, and he learned sometimes he had to adopt a stronger tack to remove Bruce's stumbling blocks.

Fortunately Bruce allowed him to administer corrections, where appropriate. Tony gently corrected so Bruce could learn for himself what was okay, and what might not be. He kept their play fairly open so Bruce's decisions were largely his own.  As long as it didn't curb Bruce's appetite and/or trigger him, Tony was more than happy to oblige with whatever scenario Bruce wanted.

"Here," Tony said, handing him the pint. "But I'd like to feed you."

Bruce nodded, and Tony smiled at the small quiver beneath Bruce's lips. Bruce's deepening double chin was rather cute, if he did say so himself. "Open," Tony commanded. Bruce did, and Tony took a large scoop of ice cream and fed him. He laughed a little when Bruce closed his eyes and collapsed into the flavor. His body crumpled at Tony's administrations and he whimpered as if he couldn't get enough.

Tony laughed again. "Patience, there's more coming." Bruce opened his mouth without being asked, and Tony shook his head. "Wait for me."

A small heat pinked Bruce's cheeks. "Okay."

"No worries. Just let me take care of you." Tony took a small taste from the spoon first. "Open."

Bruce obeyed, then made a small, almost purring burr deep in his throat. "Thank you, Tony," he murmured.

"Don't mention it. Honorifics aren't needed," he said as an afterthought, due to the way Bruce addressed him. Bruce needed to remember they were on the same page today which wasn't to say he wouldn't correct him from time to time, but Tony made sure his corrections were pleasing and that they occurred without much humiliation. 

"Is there anything you want to ask me? Open."

Bruce tilted his head and licked the ice cream from the spoon. "I don't think so."

"I won our game, but I gave you two options."

Bruce grunted. "I remember. Not sure if I like the idea, but I'll go."

"Well, you almost won. How about if I give you a choice: Either go with me to the banquet, or consider that second thing I offered."

Bruce took a while to answer him and used the ice cream as an avoidance. "More?"

"Not yet," he admonished quietly. "Tell me what you want to do."

"So...between the known and the unknown." Tony nodded. "Can you give me a hint?"

Tony smiled softly. "Nope." He didn't like giving Bruce the answers. Sometimes he had to decide for himself, whether he wanted to do something or not.

Bruce sighed. "Okay. Then I guess..." he made a face. "I'll chose the unknown."

"Excellent. Open." He scooped up a large portion of ice cream and fed it to Bruce, as if praising him. "I want you to join me for dinner, with a good friend of mine. He's in town for the weekend and I want you to be there. It's time we all had dinner together."

Bruce stiffened but Tony ignored it. "Who?"

"It'll be okay. You know him."

Bruce fidgeted a little and Tony let him reason it out. "It's Colonel Rhodes, isn't it?"

"Yep." Bruce tried taking the spoon from Tony but Tony lightly slapped his hand with it. "No. Tell me why you're nervous."

"Apart from the obvious?" Bruce rubbed his knuckles absently. "That he's career military, and I haven't had that much luck with the military?"

Tony watched him carefully. "You've met him before and he didn't set you off. What's changed?"

Bruce opened his mouth and shut it silently. "Nothing set me off, I'm fine."

"No, _no_. Fuck this nonsense." Tony spat between his teeth.  " _Red card_. We are _not_ doing the lying and hiding shit. Not again." He got up and reached for his pants, and handed Bruce his clothes. "I'm getting dressed and you're getting dressed, and we're gonna talk." Tony shuffled on his pants and began putting on his t-shirt. "Get yourself situated and meet me in the living room in five."

Then he grabbed the plates and food from the room, and stormed out.

 ***

 Tony had created a different set of rules when it came to Bruce's "escapist tendencies." There were times when they took two steps forward, and the clouds broke and the sun came out and Disney princesses sang while creating leis of popcorn and candy. And then there were set back days, days where Tony had to knock on Bruce's door for an hour to get him to respond, days that included a lot of mood swings, silent treatments, and hiding. He tolerated a lot because he knew Bruce had gone through a lot and he wanted to be there for him. But after they went through some shit - a _lot_ of fucking, nasty shit - he put his foot down. Lying was first and foremost the deal breaker. And it wasn't like Bruce hadn't lied to him before, but he thought they were done with the blatant secrecy and the two steps back. He thought Bruce was done lying to _him_ , for good. So this incident? It frustrated him more than he was willing to admit. 

One arm was casually splayed behind the back of the sofa while the other held the remote, jabbing it towards the TV as if using a weapon. Tony could've told Jarvis to change the channel but he needed something to do with his hands. Something less violent. And the mindlessness between the TV channels changing with his mood helped him think and settle.

It took ten minutes for Bruce to finally exit the bedroom but Tony didn't fault him for being late. It was a victory that the man shuffled out at all.

Tony's eye flickered briefly at him, noting that Bruce wore a different set of clothes than when they started, a black guayabera with vertical white stripes, and khakis. _Right_ , he thought. They were in Bruce's apartment. They shared enough space that sometimes he forgot whose place was whose. Tony didn't say anything about the change of clothes but Bruce's attire told him enough, that he was taking Tony's outburst seriously.

His eyes returned to the television but he crossed one leg over his knee as Bruce took the other edge of the couch. " _No more lies_ , Bruce."

Bruce took time to rally his thoughts. "I know."

"You swore to me," Tony began. His leg jiggled ominously. "Eight months ago, in this very room, that we wouldn't lie to each other, no matter what, not _ever_ again. You remember _why_?"

To Bruce's credit, he remained solemn and didn't flinch. "You know I do."

Tony glared at him. "Then what the hell, Bruce? Are we gonna go through the same fucking bullshit every few months?"

Bruce hunched forward and hung his head, examining his fingers. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have lied, and I should've been honest with you. You have a right to be suspicious, considering. That wasn't...fair of me."

"No it wasn't," Tony snapped. The silence lingered, neither man daring or wanting to speak for several minutes, but Tony finally took a deep breath and began again. Softer. "Look, I know you have good days and bad days - hell, I do too. But the only way we're going to get through it is if we're both above board with each other. When I feel like crawling into a bottle and staying there, you're the first person I tell. All I ask is for the same treatment back."

Bruce made a face. "It wouldn't...it's got nothing to do with - with _that_ ," Bruce spat. Even now he had trouble voicing it out loud. "This is different. It's not food related. Not at all."

"Then what the hell is it?"

Bruce took in a sharp breath through his nose then slowly let it out. Tony could see his lips slowly moving, counting down to calm and center himself. "How long has it been since we saw Colonel Rhodes? Together, I mean."

"Ten, maybe eleven months ago."

Bruce nodded. He looked up from his fingers and stared blankly at a wall. "A couple things were different. I was different. _We_ were different." 

Tony frowned and scrutinized Bruce's expression, but he couldn't completely follow the train of thought. Bruce was trying to tell him something but it wasn't coming together. "So? Everyone changes."

Bruce barked out a laugh. "Yeah. They do."

"Are you--" Tony rolled his eyes, finally getting it. "Don't tell me you're talking about your _size_. Trust me, he won't care. You think he's going to judge you for that?"

Bruce shrugged. "Maybe. We also weren't dating at the time, Tony. It's like..." He sighed and fumbled with his fingers before clearing his throat. "He's your best friend, and you have history with him. A lot of history. And maybe that makes me a little uncomfortable."

A laugh slipped out before Tony could stop it. "You're jealous of Honey Bear? Of _Rhodey_?"

Bruce impatiently shut his eyes and turned his back to him. "Goddammit, Tony..."

"No, no. Wait, I'm sorry." He bit back the ugly snort in his throat and shortened the distance between them on the couch. "Seriously, there's nothing to be jealous of. We're friends."

"So were we, before we got started."

Tony sighed softly and tickled the fine hairs at the nape of Bruce's neck. "Your self-esteem issues are killin' me, Banner." He moved his fingers and lightly massaged Bruce's taut shoulders until the corded muscles became pliant to his touch. "Rhodey and I have been friends for years, sure. We did a lot of stuff back in the day, but Rhodey's straight as an arrow - hell, Clint's arrows are bendier." Bruce bowed his head and hummed softly as Tony found another tight cluster of knotted muscle.

"You've got nothing to worry about, Bruce."

"But he's...what I'm not, Tony," Bruce admitted quietly. "And I'm not blind, I know I'm...bigger than I was back then, but that's one more thing separating us."

Tony softly kissed the back of Bruce's neck, behind his right ear. "But that's exactly why I'm with you and not him. Because of your differences. Hey, I can still care about the dude and not be in love with him. He's like my brother. _Is_ my brother. And I don't mean that in a _hey, Black Power,_ way 'cause that's just weird and--"

"Tony. Cut it out." Bruce laughed a little, and Tony nodded, pleased that the small quip had the desired effect. "Okay, okay. I guess I just..."

"Overreacted? Yes. But so did I. I assumed you lied to me for other reasons and I apologize for jumping to conclusions."

"I'm sorry too," Bruce said, although he didn't need to apologize again.

Tony snuck his hands around Bruce's middle and let his hands roam, even as Bruce's hum became a bit more throaty. Tony growled, muttering in Bruce's ear. "I fucked up and I should apologize the right way, by making good on my earlier promise. If you're in the mood, that is. No games."

Bruce's dark chuckle rippled through his entire back, and it made Tony hard as he hugged him from behind. "Yeah, you did fuck up... but I guess I'm slowly getting back in the mood."

"Good," Tony murmured. He ran his hands under Bruce's shirt, thumbing his fingers across his stretched skin and stroking the lowest part of his stomach. Bruce's hum deepened and became a definite moan. "But we can just stay like this, if you wan--"

"No, no, oh, no. I'm ready. Now," Bruce murmured. He turned to look at Tony, cheeks flushed and pupils dark and hungry. "God, Tony. How do you make me horny so fucking _fast_?"

Tony chuckled and grinned at Bruce's lust. "Chemistry, Dr. Banner. But I promise the rest _won't_ be fast." Tony took his hand and slowly lead Bruce back to the bedroom.

***

On Friday evening, Bruce fidgeted with his sport coat and Tony laughed as he adjusted Bruce's crooked tie. "It'll be fine," he told him, taking his hand. He gave it a gentle squeeze before they entered the restaurant. "This place is exclusive and quiet, and I booked our table away from prying eyes. No paps can get within a hundred feet of the entrance. UN members eat here, for fuck's sake."

"Mm."

"Come on," he murmured.

Tony checked with the maitre d' and they were seated at a small private balcony, overlooking the river. Lights from the other side winked softly while the distant sounds of harbor ships and commuter trains added to the meditative lull.

"It's beautiful," Bruce said automatically. He went to the railing to catch the crest of the sun disappearing over the horizon. The water from the harbor lapped and licked at the shoreline, interrupting one lone seagull's quest for dinner.

"Not every place I go is loud and obnoxious, Bruce," Tony said, coming to his side. "I won't force you to go out with me, but I know what you like, too. I won't take you somewhere you'd hate." _Trust me_ , he almost said.

Bruce snorted softly and shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I need to work on that."

Tony cupped an arm around Bruce's side and squeezed gently. "We will. Together."

A small throat-clearing almost made Bruce bolt, but Tony's hand around Bruce's waist grounded him. Tony gave him one last, reassuring squeeze before whirling around with his showman grin. "Honey Bear!"

Jim Rhodes rolled his eyes, but accepted it when Tony plowed into him with a ridiculous hug and lifted him off his feet. He sputtered a laugh. "Oof. Dang it, Tony. Down, man. Put me down." 

Tony grinned and clasped Rhodes on the shoulder, then maneuvered him to where Bruce shyly stood by the rail. Tony watched both men with hawkish eyes but only Bruce showed any signs of nervousness. "Dr. Banner," Rhodes said, holding out his hand. "It's nice to see you again."

"Likewise," Bruce said, tentatively shaking Rhodes' hand. "And please, call me Bruce, Colonel Rhodes."

 "Of course. And I expect the same. Colonel is too formal--"

"Rhodey, honey bear, grumpy cat, studly-do-right...he answers to them all."

"--but don't use his nicknames," Rhodes finished, grinning. "Jim is fine."

"All right...Jim," Bruce said, softly testing the name.

"Good," Tony said, clasping his hands together. "Now that we have the formalities out of the way, I'm starving. Let's rack up some frequent eater miles."

***

Later in the evening, both Bruce and Rhodey were hugging their sides as tears ran down their faces. "So then," Tony explained, fully animated and enthralled in his tale. _"Then_ , the motherfucker comes up and is all, 'so what now, little man?' "

Bruce wiped a stray tear from his eye and tried catching his breath between hiccuped cackles. "What the hell? He was shorter than you!"

"I know, right? Especially in the suit! But I was all, 'it's football season.' And he was like, 'whut?' And then I punted his ass across the East River."

Rhodey banged the table with his fist, howling,  while Bruce doubled over in laughter. Tony grinned at them both and chuckled a little to himself as he gulped the wine in his glass. It was a funny story, but maybe not as funny as it would've been if the three of them hadn't plowed through five bottles of Pinot Noir. "God, that dude was an asshole."

"Ohh, shit. You do make some enemies, Tones," Rhodes said, finally catching his breath. He sighed a few times and choked back some false-start giggles. He tapped Bruce on the shoulder, who was finally coming up for air. "This guy. I swear. If he gives you any shit, you come to me. I'll give you plenty of blackmail ammo."

Tony snorted. "Like you could embarrass me. At all."

"Two words, Tony," Rhodes said, thumping his elbow on the table and holding his fingers like a peace sign. "Helena. Mason."

"Ho-lee--" Tony choked as his wine went down the wrong way. He was laughing, even as Rhodes pounded him on the back. "You bastard! You waited years for that!"

"Yes. Yes I did. And now I've got someone who will truly appreciate the story for what it is." He winked at Bruce.

"Hell," Bruce rumbled, still laughing a little. "You guys're too much. I gotta...I gotta go take a piss." He rose a little unsteadily and Tony quickly reached out to steady him. "Oops. Thanks, I'm good," he assured him, even if he did wobble a lot. "Which--?"

"Straight through the main dining room and take a left at the winding stair," Tony told him. "You need help getting there?"

"Nah. I'm fine," Bruce said. He used the wall to guide his movements. "But I may need a new prescription for my glasses 'cause everything's out of focus."

Tony laughed. "You're drunk, that's all. Be careful, though. Ask a waiter if you get lost."

Bruce nodded and ambled out. Tony was still laughing a little after making sure Bruce stumbled in the right direction. He turned back around to Rhodey, who had a sly smile on his face.

"He should've eaten more," Rhodey said, sipping from his glass. "Would've sopped up more of the alcohol."

"He doesn't eat when he's nervous," Tony said, smile slowly disappearing. He paused a little, and maintained a steady gaze across the river. "I'll make him eat something when we get home. But Bruce is a lightweight. Three glasses and he's usually pretty out of it. So yeah, he'll be feeling it tomorrow."

Rhodey snorted and put his glass aside while Tony's expression sobered.

"So. Go on," Tony muttered. "I know you want to ask me a million things."

"Maybe a few," Rhodes said, sighing and sitting back in his chair. "He's a big dude, Tony."

Tony's jaw tightened and he refilled his glass. "Maybe a little bigger from when you last saw him."

"A lot bigger."

Tony's eye held a dangerous glint. "Are you gonna harp on me about that, Jim? Because if you are--"

Rhodey shot him a, "bitch, please" look and drained his glass. "No, Tony. C'mon. Who the hell're you talking to? Remember Mimi? Mimi Anderson? She and I were together for two years, man."

Tony's eyebrows bobbled. "That long--? Shit, really?"

"Yeah, that long." He played with his glass and used it to gesture to the door. "She was a good thirty to forty pounds bigger than Bruce is now, and that was _before_ we broke up."

Tony smirked at him. "Yeah. You two were into some kinky shit, though."

"Says the pot to the kettle." He filled his glass and sipped quietly. "I was young and stupid, and didn't respect her as I should've. And that's why we broke up. In the end she knew it wasn't really love. I was in love with the idea of her, but not _her_." Rhodey glared at Tony, making sure the man took in everything he was about to say. "I'm saying Bruce is a really good guy, Tony. Really good for you, and you two are great together. So watch it. Don't go over the line I did, man. Respect his boundaries."

Tony swallowed a little and looked away. "I know, Rhodey. I know." Sighing, he let his gaze linger on a small sailboat drifting further into the harbor. "I've...been asking myself that, and making sure that whatever I do, it's because Bruce _wants_ it. He's been through some rough shit and it's not my place to tell his story, not to you or anyone else. But everything here, everything we've done and everything we're doing has merit. He's in a better mental place. We still have a lot to work on, but I can tell he's made strides even if he doesn't see it."

Rhodes took a quick sip from his glass and lowered his voice. "So what happens when he _does_ see it, Tony? When he finally grows up, for lack of a better term?"

Tony shrugged but didn't answer. He wasn't sure of the answer himself, if he were honest. He stared into his wine glass, lost in his thoughts, and took a small sip. Then he paused a long time to weigh his next words before finally speaking again. "In the last year," he said quietly, "Bruce put on more than a hundred pounds."

Rhodey's jaw dropped and he whistled a little. "Is that possible?"

"Ask me if _Bruce_ is possible, Rhodey. Mass displacement? Classical mechanics? _Hello_? By every right, _he_ shouldn't be possible, but he is. But that's not the craziest. Yes, people can gain that much in a year, if hormones are out of whack or drugs are involved. But Rhodey, Bruce gained the majority of that in a _six month period_."

 _"What_?"

Tony nodded slowly and took another drink. "I'm almost positive there's more than one issue, but all are competing for attention in Bruce's head. In the meanwhile, he's working out the situation his own way, physically. I'm not a psychologist but I have a feeling Hulk is also exerting pressure in subtle ways. Ways Bruce might not recognize. Bruce's weight will stabilize once he works through the mental aspects, I'm sure of it. But I'm really wondering what Hulk's up to."

"God, Tony..."

Tony held up his hand. "I know, it's dangerous territory. And trust me, Rhodey. We've had some extremely close and ugly calls and I've had my share of bumps and bruises because of it. But I care about Bruce and his well-being. I care about him a lot, more than maybe I want to admit."

Rhodey chewed his lip. "Just remember he's a _person_ , Tony. The day he becomes an experiment to you--"

Tony scowled. _"Fuck_. It's not like that. Not even close"

"Are you sure?"

Before he had a chance to respond, Bruce stumbled into the doorway with a patient waiter in tow. "Took your advice," Bruce giggled. "Cause I got lost."

The waiter, to his credit, wore a pleasant smile. "Is this your table, sir?"

Tony nodded and chuckled a little. He dug into his pocket as the waiter helped Bruce to his seat, and tucked a hundred dollar bill in the kid's shirtfront pocket. "Thanks."

"Of course, sir. Will there be anything else?"

"Just the bill."

The waiter nodded and headed back out.

Bruce was still laughing and telling them a little about his experiences wandering the restaurant, but Tony's eyes were locked on Rhodey's. _Yeah, I'm sure_ , his eyes told the other man. _And we'll be fine_  

He just had to convince himself.

***

After dinner Tony saw Rhodey off, with the promise that they would talk later - if not the weekend, then the next time he was back in town. Tony knew Rhodes was worried but it wasn't his problem to solve, it was Bruce's, and his own, by proxy. Still. Tony was grateful to have someone he could talk to about it. Rhodey didn't mention it much but he was as much a scientist in his own right, a literal rocket scientist, and Tony saw the gears working in Rhodey's brain to help with the solution.

"God, I'm still fucked up," Bruce snorted. Tony laughed and pulled him into his bed. Tony convinced Bruce to stay the night, mostly because he didn't want Bruce to wake up the next day alone and sick.

"Drink some more water," he told him. "You'll feel better."

"I'll just get up in the middle of the night," Bruce sighed, but he took a small gulp from the bottled water on the nightstand. "Thanks, Tony. You were right. That was a blast."

"Good." He smiled tiredly and fingered one of Bruce's curls. "Bruce?"

"Mm?" Bruce yawned, and Tony knew he wouldn't be awake for much longer. Not with all the wine coursing through his system.

"Am I..." He swallowed. "Do you think I'm too manipulative? Do you ever feel that way?"

Bruce grunted, and Tony hoped he was lucid enough to give him a direct answer but not so lucid that he'd fret the rest of the night. "Maybe. Sometimes. But I do it too. Maybe more'n you. 'S part of relationships." He yawned again. "But we're gettin' better at the honesty thing. Figure we'll get better at the rest, too."

Tony smiled a little sadly. "Yeah."

"Hey, hey..." Bruce's bloodshot eyes jerked up to look at him, and Tony almost laughed at the effort Bruce put in to focus on his face. "Hey. It's all right. I gave you the right, 'cause I couldn't do it myself. I'm still learning an' when I finally get whatever it is I need to get, I'll let you know."

Tony swallowed the lump in his throat. "Promise?"

"Bet your sweet ass I will," Bruce mumbled.

Tony laughed. "Man, you _are_ hammered. Get some sleep."

"Mmf."

Tony gently kissed the top of Bruce's head. "I love you," he whispered softly, but he knew Bruce was too far out of it to hear him. All for the best, though. He sighed and tucked his arms beneath his head.

He had a lot of thinking to do.


End file.
